Toby Young
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For several days I managed to wreak complete havoc, but the IT police eventually tracked down the source of all the trouble and I was summoned to the managing editor’s office. I was convinced I’d just get a slap on the wrist. After all, isn’t the ability to hack into computer networks a useful skill for any trainee reporter? Secretly, he’ll be impressed by my ingenuity.
In fact, when I arrived in the managing editor’s office I was greeted by a uniformed security guard holding the contents of my desk drawer in a plastic bag. The managing editor handed me my papers and I was then escorted from the premises.
Shortly afterwards, I was having a drink with an old Fleet Street hand when he asked me how it was going at the Times.
‘I no longer work there,’ I told him.
‘Why not?’
‘Let’s just say things didn’t work out.’
‘Come again?’
‘It wasn’t a good fit.’
‘A word of advice,’ he said. ‘If you’ve been fired, don’t say you were the victim of cutbacks or you decided to spend more time with your family. Just say, “I was fired”. Never complain, never explain.’
That turned out to be excellent advice because in the 22 years since I’ve been fired from Vanity Fair, the Sunday Times, the Observer, the Mail on Sunday, the Guardian, the Independent, the Evening Standard, the New Statesman and Gear magazine.
‘So that’s it?’ said my neighbour. ‘I just look the person in the eye and tell them I was fired?’
‘That’s it,’ I said. ‘Anything else will make you look weak.’
If he does manage to secure a job at Goldman’s, I suspect this advice may prove quite useful.
Toby Young is associate editor of The Spectator.
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